Justify
by Serria
Summary: After all, only the righteous have what it takes to take justice... and justify it. The ballad of Light and L from start to finish. Oneshot.


Summary: The ballad of Light and L – from start and to finish. One-shot.

Rating: T

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**JUSTIFY  
**

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**Light Yagami is the most brilliant student in all of Japan.**

_("The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." John 10:10)_

The notebook has all the elegance of poetry if the one who wields it is a poet. Age-old proverb goes that the pen is mightier than the sword, but for the Death Note, both blood and ink are taken into consideration. The adolescent's sturdy hand constructs a delicate calligraphy, strokes winding in dark paint. The brisk tip of his ballpoint pen composes each character like a symphony score - here, two bars, Light's quiet breathing. Here, _crescendo_, the scratching into the sheet music of deliverance. And now _forte, forte!_ Stacatto and the sound of drums, the exhilarating pounding of the hearts of the sinners that taint the path to a new world.

(_Day after day after day, you watch the news and all you see... the world is-_)

So away they go. Ba-dum, ba-dum, the muscle pumps sustenance, it keeps them alive and it makes them dead. Daisuke Mita: this one raped and murdered three college-age women. Reiji Kimura: this one raped and murdered three preschool-age children. This one kidnapped a baby, this one poisoned her husband to inherit his money. This one is a terrorist, this one set off a bomb that caused forty-three people to lose their lives. This one sells cocaine to schoolboys, this one was involved in the sex-slave industry. Murderer. Menace. Criminal. Vermin. A rotting, rotting civilization. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum...

...And then they stop. Hush, hearts of ye wicked. Hush, for thou shalt plague us no more.

(_It's time for a change._)

Three bars, a steady four-four time, and a full four pages of sheet music has been composed. _Decrescendo_, a rest until tomorrow, and then repeat. Light smiles, satisfied for his efforts, stretching his elbows above his head and pressing his knuckles into the back of his neck. It has been a whole week, every since the Death Note fell into his hands. Ryuk had said that the selection was entirely random, he only dropped it from the sky, which makes Light think that perhaps an even higher power has connected him with this weapon, like King Arthur and the Sword of Avalon.

After all, who else could do it? Who else could bear the weight of killing, who else was willing to face the consequences? Who else was willing to sacrifice his own soul and mind, who else was asking for nothing in return? Light, he doesn't want a thing, he doesn't care about money or fame or political power. All he wants, all he really wants is Justice to be a god in this deteriorating world, all he wants is to listen to the news and never again hear about the suffering of innocents. He _has been_ chosen to lead the world to Salvation, even if he is going to do it from his bedroom with the door securely locked.

(They gave him a name already, the public did. They call him _Kira_, and secretly - secretly, so no one else will judge them for it - they praise Kira's name. Light can see them quietly show their support anonymously on hundreds of websites in Japan alone, quietly they are willing to glance away from the socially acceptable and they are able to see a new reality where they are promised prosperity.)

Only the wicked cower in fear.

Light closes his eyes, stifling a yawn and leaning back in his chair. His wristwatch reads 21:00, yet he is not tired. He is more impatient than ever, and there is always so much to do, so much to accomplish that never before in his life was he awake to do.

"Had enough Justice for one day, buddy?" comes the Shinigami's snicker from behind him.

He glances over his shoulder. "No. I'd work nonstop if I could."

"What, the god of the new world is getting sleepy?"

"I have homework."

And so the righteous vigilante exits the various world news websites, and he opens a word document to write an essay, in English, about what he is most looking forward to in college.

**L Lawliet is the most brilliant detective on Earth.**

_("And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light." Corinthians 11:14)_

Things in this world were never anymore about what they were. They were about what they meant. The shrouded detective contemplates this for a moment as his fingers tap at the plastic buttons, arranged in a straight pattern on an equally plastic board: we call it a keyboard. Certainly, some otherworldly specie might gaze upon the sight in bewilderment, they might wonder why this young man is crouched so fervently down by this collection of plastic shapes, hooked together with cylindrical wires into a unit that flashed lights and buzzed and whirred. Who would think that at his fingertips, L Lawliet was controlling the most powerful policing agencies on the entire planet?

There were other things that could not be judged by what they were, but by what they meant. Likewise, L thinks, Kira can not be judged by the plain fact that he is lowering the crime rate. He is to be judged as a vigilante, as somebody who is challenging a system and who is capable of throwing the world into chaos if he feels like it. It is somebody who has abilities that no human should have, particularly not a narrow-minded idealist. Yes, only a narrow-minded idealist would have simply killed criminals. This was a juvenile sense of right and wrong, and this Kira was, as far as L cared, evil. _I am childish and I hate to lose_, L admits to himself. _Are you also childish?_

_Let's find out, Kira. (I know where you are, I know what you need to kill, and I think you'll play a nice game with me. Won't you?_)

Lind L. Taylor fills the computer screen. All eyes in Interpol and Kanto, Japan are on him, he who is L's proxy. L had an arduous time finding a criminal on death row with an "L" in his name to put the facade in concrete, but after all, he was _L_ and the FBI had provided him with this man. L expects him to die today, but since he was going to be executed anyway this is acceptable. The public might complain about L pulling a stunt like this, but the public complains about everything and the investigation has so much to gain.

Only a few minutes into the broadcast (they had him scheduled for a full half-hour), Lind L. Taylor clutches his chest, his face distorting into something deformed from agony, and he slumps over on the desk. Heart attack. Kira, without a doubt. This was just too perfect, in a frightening way. The broadcast footage is cut as they carry the limp body away, and L picks up his microphone with one hand. For a moment, he sits there, calming the rush of emotion that he feels and already choosing the words that he is about to say.

"Kira..."

"It seems that you can kill people without even having to be there..."

"Kill me now, Kira! Come on, I want you to kill me!" Nothing happens, and L chuckles softly under his breath with his own heart still racing. (ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum) "What's the matter? Can't you do it?"

He can't. L, he manipulates the failures of others.

"So there are some people that you can't kill. You've given me a useful hint..."

L smiles again, in the darkness of the room, the only light is glowing at him through the mess of plastic, metal hardware and glass that allows him to play chess with the world.

"Of course, I'm very interested to know how you commit these murders, but I can wait a little longer. You can answer all of my questions when I catch you."

He can envision the scenario now, which he does not consider mere imagination because he is certain he will see it through. The day that he captures this terrorist who has been holding the world ransom, the day he has the criminal in chains and he belongs to L for interrogation, the day he does whatever it takes to make the bastard talk. The day L uncovers the things he does not know and shines some light upon this darkness.

"Let's meet again soon... Kira."

Then, when he has everything, he will send the person to the final judgment: his own lethal injection. Execution awaits criminals, and likewise it is waiting for Kira. There will not be any escape - he will make certain of it.

"I will hunt you down and dispose of you."

Because, Kira, _you deserve to die_.

And as for me...

"I am-"

**Light Yagami is beloved by everyone he meets.**

_You deserve to die._

There had been panic, and the terror was real. Beads of sweat fell down his flushed cheeks, his pupils contracted. Using the Death Note was- well, it was _safe_, wasn't it? It wasn't real- that was, the Justice was real, but, Light couldn't get caught. Not actually, not from something like this, right? And the policing agents were blundering idiots, no one was quite on that level. No one, except, except...

"Very well," Light says, the terror giving way to a rush of adrenaline, the thrill of exhilaration. "I accept your challenge, L. Let's see who's smarter!"

_You have no idea what I'm capable of_.

"I will hunt you down and dispose of you."

(Light Yagami, he's never yet failed a challenge in his life, he always wins)

"I am-"

_You'll make this fun, won't you, L? _Undaunted, Light makes the first move. In any chess game, one should always test the waters first with the lowly pawns before making bold, potentially detrimental moves. But if you move a pawn for the first time, you can move it either one space or two, thrust it forward dangerously into an offense to pressure your opponent. Light, he never loses chess.

Today the pawn is not a piece of painted wood; today it is the ineffective law-enforcement that created the need for Kira is the first place, today, it is the National Police Agency. Light can hack their uploaded reports through his father's system, he knows what L is telling them to investigate. L says that maybe, maybe Kira is just a student because it is peculiar how the killings happen only on weekday nights, weekends and holidays. (_I know you know that, L, and you'll know I know you know. In fact, that's the point.)_

A brilliant artist must push the limits of his poetry. Light knows the Death Note has rules and he will learn exactly what he can do so he knows how to apply his intelligence and do even more. Because right now, L's got more playing pieces, Light's got the King (himself) and the Queen (the Death Note) and he is only just foggily aware of what his mysterious adversary can do.

L controls the NPA? Well, then – Light can control time. (tick tick tick, he writes their names in the night before and they drop like flies every hour during the next day, while he's passing the soccer ball in gym class or eating a sandwich in the cafeteria or laughing with his friends, almost forgetting about L- but not quite.)

L manipulates Interpol? Well, then – Light can manipulate the almost-dead. (tick tick tick, the death row prisoners will kill themselves just like he writes in the notebook, they will cut their fingers and hang themselves, as long as it's not too absurd, this is not too absurd)

L conducts the FBI? Well, then – Light will eliminate them, too. (tick tick tick, L sends them to Japan to investigate everyone connected with the Japanese police, because it's obvious now that Kira has access to supposedly confidential information. Light makes the risky offensive move, he finds the name of his own stalker and doesn't only sentence him, he sentences every FBI agent stationed in Japan, this, this is what happens when you try to catch me.)

The American FBI will definitely be furious over twelve dead agents. If Light knows anything about the world, it's that no one really trusts each other. Sometimes they pretend they do, but everyone is always lying. L knows this, too. The FBI will confront both L and the Japanese Police Director. And when the police find out that L did not trust them, either, a man who won't show his face or give his name when everyone else is risking their lives...

**L Lawliet is respected by every international superpower he controls.**

Touché.

Tonight, for the first time in his life, he is putting his own self on the playing field, his own body and face attached to the specific piece class: _I am L_. Tonight he shines a light to illuminate the chess board, even if just a bit, and the NPA will be able to see. No, soon Kira himself would be able to see, but by doing this, L will soon be able to see his righteous bitch of an adversary as well. This he is counting on, so tonight, tonight.

"I am L."

He interviews the small but trustworthy group of detective cops with whom he has whittled the pack down into. These men will be somewhat oppositional to his methods but he can tell they will serve him well. Workforce would be short-staffed, however, L has never lost a challenge.

First comes grueling work – he does not let them sleep, they must review security tapes of all the agents before they died. When Raye Penber draws the most suspicion in the subway (manila envelope, you're gone now, Kira has you), L concludes that they will be setting up surveillance cameras in the Kitamura and Yagami households.

"What?!" the police, they shriek. "You're going to spy on them? The Chief has kids! This is illegal, we could lose our jobs!"

L does not really care if they lose their jobs. That is incredibly obsolete in the crusade to capture the greatest mass-murderer of the century, perhaps of all time. They were willing to risk their lives to continue pursuing Kira but something as superficial as public appearances gave them cold feet – this seems hypocritical, and L is reminded why he finds people impossible to trust.

He guilts them, and they give in. Watari proceeds to set up hundreds of cameras in each house, making almost every angle visible from every room. Despite Matsuda's whining, watching Sayu Yagami take showers or use the bathroom is not actually his priority, except if she displays suspicious behavior while doing so, and remember – somehow, Kira is able to kill in a way that very well may be Extra-Sensory Perception (ESP) and L is definitely not willing to let anything fall through the cracks.

One thing he knows for sure, at least as far as logic goes (the only thing he is willing to put faith in), is that Kira needs to know about the criminals broadcast on television or the Internet before he commits the murder. So L takes advantage of this. The Yagami family, at least the wife, daughter and son because L is using Soichiro right now, they're in the kitchen/living room area. Sayu has the television on, watching some soap opera. L sets his plan into action – a banner is run across the Yagami television, announcing that Interpol is sending over a thousand agents into Japan to investigate Kira. If Kira is in this household, he can expect a change in facial expression.

Sayu reads the announcement, looking puzzled – suspicion of her is fairly low. The wife, Sachiko, sighs. The son, he closes his eyes for a moment, and L is magnetically drawn to him, this boy. What will he do?

"Interpol is pretty stupid," the adolescent finally says, rolling his eyes. "If they were really going to dispatch so many agents, they would keep it a secret. I bet they're just trying to scare Kira, but I wouldn't be surprised if Kira sees right through it."

L's wide eyes, they widen. His teeth, they bite down on his thumb from unplanned instinct, but his lower lip drops. (He fits the profile, he is the profile, the piece of a puzzle to snatch and place like tile)

The magnets, they collide like meteors. Hands of gravity brush fingertips, hearts thumping (ba-dum, ba-dum) because this is the moment that defines the crash of all crashes.

"Your son is pretty intelligent, isn't he?" L says to the Chief beside him, a smile unable to keep its silence.

_I've found you, Kira... _

_Oh, the things I'm going to do to you. Oh, the fun we will have. _

**Light Yagami is the closest thing to a god.**

Light knows that L is watching him. He bribes a Shinigami into finding the cameras, and he pulls a neat little stunt with a tiny television on mute, hidden in a bag of chips as he studies for college entrance exams and punishes the wicked. After that day, he simply remembers the names on television and writes them down later, outside, all with L to bear witness. In fact, he wants L to see. _Watch me, L._

Dreams are sweet but are susceptible to nightmare infestation – the day that a disheveled young man comes up behind him, raven eyes that pick apart his face like old scabs and squeeze out the blood for answers – he says, "I want to tell you that I'm L."

This... this guy...! Color creeps into cheeks, eyes are electrocuted with fright, and he thinks _there's no way I can kill him like this, he's made a move that is both defensive and offensive. There's no way I can kill him!  
_

This shrouded man. This oblivious, socially inept man, this genius, this goddamn son-of-a-bitch bastard genius, behind him, screening him, watching him (_watch me, L_) and there was nothing he could do.

Except...

On the outside, Light Yagami and Ryuuzaki will be the best of friends. Light will definitely play tennis with him, he will definitely meet him at the cafe, hell, he will even work on the Kira case with him. But Light knows, and Ryuuzaki knows, both fighting to decide if the other is who they think they are (who they want them to be) and whoever reaches the conclusion first will be the one who gets to sign the death sentence of the other. On the inside, Kira and L will battle on the squares of a chess board until there is a corpse. And Light, if he forgets the fact that he's gambling with his own life - no, in fact, especially because he knows that he's gambling with his own life while dancing a cascade of lies with L... in fact...

He's more alive today than he has been ever before.

When L kidnaps Misa, the stakes are raised to sky-scraping levels. If Misa talks (and L will undoubtedly make her talk) then he will have everything he needs to take away Light next and topple the King. The practical thing to do at this point is to kill Misa Amane, to write her name in the notebook – but the Shinigami Rem says that if he dares to try, she will kill him first.

Light, he clenches his fists, shivers prickling down his back. The boy, he screams in his head because hasn't he lost now? Hasn't he been so magnificently cornered? He could flee the country but L's Queen is Interpol and still very much patrolling the board and what the hell does he know about running from the world. He might as well give himself up to L now and beg for a life sentence if he cooperates.

He might as well... turn himself in to L...

(...turn into L?)

So this is what it would take. This is what it would take to win.

(And save the world.)

"Light-kun..." the adversary, picks his face apart like scabs, squeezing out the blood because there is no answer like blood.

"Ryuuzaki, it's like I said. I might be Kira..."

_Watch me, L!_

**L Lawliet is the closest thing to a god.**

He is very good at leaving emotions at the door when playing poker. Obviously, the personal biases that come hand in hand with emotion are detrimental to clear thinking when it comes to L's line of work. But this, this is exhilarating, a jolt of pressure like the most crucial wires of a computer, winding them only just so and if you mess up, electrocution ensues and you're dead or hospitalized. The ironic thing is, is that he is engineering from a distance, not moving, but his fingertips control their imprisoned existences.

L attempts to multitask, to watch all three prisoners simultaneously as he analyzes every behavior displayed. But Misa, she's useless and apparently exhibiting signs of amnesia, and Soichiro has not been a major suspect since he met him in person. Light, on the other hand... is completely different. The adolescent is sitting in an awkward position, his chin resting on his knees. That's the best he can manage for relaxation, L supposes, as his ankles are bound together and his wrists are chained behind his back in such a way that is purposely designed to make him uncomfortable.

The cops whine incessantly about how L is treating them – Misa's in a straightjacket, blindfolded and occasionally gagged, strapped into a position that forces her to stand. Light is, of course, chained and mentally prodded with irregular meal times, encouraged insomnia and a low cell temperature. L is a little baffled that the killings really did stop – since Light willingly came to L, L had assumed he would set things up so that criminals would die anyway so that it would look like he really was innocent. Now the youth claims that perhaps he was Kira, but unconsciously so, like some kind of demon that might take him over. Was that really the card he was trying to play? Did he think that he could escape by denial? Did he think that mass murder was okay if there was no conscious recollection? Even that, were it true (and it's obviously not) would be enough to keep the teenager locked up for eternity, so L can't fathom what he is trying to prove here, but he knows it's something.

But if L has his way (and he always does) then Light will definitely submit himself, mind, body and soul to L. He will surrender everything to him, completely, he will yield to the victor.

The thought makes L shiver as he stares at the computer monitors.

"Ryuuzaki?" Light suddenly asks, his face inclining toward the direction of the video camera and awakening from private thoughts.

Immediately, L's finger presses the button that opens microphone intercom system. "Yes, Yagami-kun?"

The boy takes a second simply to stare at the lens that he sees, as though if he concentrates hard enough he will be able to make out L's face looming in the glass behind the prison's bars. It distorts into something optimistic and hopeful, but very controlled. Then, "Have any criminals died yet?"

"None."

"It can't be... can it?" the masked Kira wonders out loud, closing his eyes and bowing his head again. "I have no memories of murdering, but..."

L ignores Matsuda's sympathetic sigh from behind him and instead annunciates into the microphone. "Light-kun has certainly been under a lot of stress, so perhaps after enough time in there, you'll be able to remember more clearly how you killed them."

Is that a trick of the light, or L's imagination, or did the adolescent's lips twitch into a brief smirk? He simply repeats, "It can't be...", but it's soft and quiet and probably meant for himself more than for L.

Actually, L thinks as he bites with irritation into a chocolate coated banana, probably not.

**He is-**

Light takes a breath. The monotony is torture enough, but he holds on to his sanity fiercely. His body is sore and his head is constantly buzzing with headache. His wrists and ankles are throbbing angrily, and he's getting so annoyed with that bastard constantly trying to play mind games with him, throwing out polite little threats combined with inquiries into his health. _Just tell me how you kill them, Yagami-kun, so I can execute you and get this over with... also, how are you feeling today?_

Is it long enough yet? As soon as he has said these words, as far as he is concerned (he hopes desperately, how else can he keep his sanity), L's death note is signed.

"I must look pretty bad right now... but the claim to pride I have..."

(Light knows, he knows who he is. He is going to do the unheard of, where no artist has gone before - he is going to manipulate his own self...)

"I discard it."

Ryuk snickers and walks out, the eerie laughter of a Shinigami ringing through the cell and only Light can hear it. What he wonders is if L can hear him panicking, because this is it and if the plot messes up then he's done for sure and suddenly, suddenly...

What is going on...?

**He is-**

Again, Light is pulling against the binds in denial. If he keeps this up, the metal will definitely scratch the skin raw and draw blood. Prison is definitely wearing him out, L observes impassively. An elongated period of immobilization where the muscles are forced to inactivity leads to natural exhaustion. Combined with the lack of proper nutrients in the food for an adolescent, plus the apparent psychological agitation that he was undergoing, it is no great mystery that he seems constantly worn out after the first month, expelling what energy he had in bursts of defensive words.

That is fine. The more distress he is in, the more incentive he will have to start talking.

Frantically, the adolescent in question tosses his head upward, long hair sweeping across his cheeks and eyes wildly meeting the camera. "Ryuuzaki, how are things going? What's the news?"

"Light-kun, the criminals still have been left alone since your incarceration," L prods. It is a lie, the killings have long since resumed. But this would not be the first time that L has baited a criminal with fallacies. "I don't like to do this to you, so how about you simply confess and cooperate?"

"Please, Ryuuzaki," Light pleads for the third time that day. His eyes seem out of focus as his neck cranes them in the direction of the camera. "Please, you have to believe in me..."

L does believe in Light Yagami. He believes that he is brilliant and extraordinary, a young adult who has dreams and also has the ambitions to act upon them. He believes that this youth is capable of phenomenal things, with uncharted intelligence and a spirit to match it. "I believe you are Kira," L answers with more honesty than he has used in quite awhile, but even today, it somehow feels as though it's not quite true.

Stunned, Light shakes his head but remains quiet – this is the last day that Light initiates any conversation. After this he becomes more silent, more detached, he lays on his side staring into Nothingness like an inevitable fate. L watches him for hours, doing nothing but breathe, an anxious look carved on his fair face.

(And L, he regrets the moments where he is forced to blink.)

Now it is time for the climax. Keeping this up will get them no where except possibly plant false ideas into the heads of the prisoners in an act of desperation. So the detective, he ponders. L calls Soichiro Yagami back to the hotel, and tells him to do something that he knows the old man will not like. Unforgivable, the ultimate sin. L takes this in patiently, and tells him it's the only way, otherwise Light stays in that cell because he will not let him out unless he can have reassurance that it will be safe.

So Soichiro agrees to point a handgun at his terrified son's head, and he agrees to pull the trigger.

Bang.

"You're terrible, Ryuuzaki," is the only thing that the withering old father says as he walks out the door.

**(But he likes you.)**

Light, he refuses to waste time hating L when logic tells him to hate Kira instead. So he hates Kira, the one who framed him and vows to never rest until the murderer is dead.

(Actually, he does rest – being handcuffed to an insomniac detective teaches one to value the simple things in life, such as freedom, such as sleep. Such as holding childish grudges – better to deal with this maturely and look beyond the fact that L wanted him to be Kira.)

"We'll do what we can to capture Kira," Light says confidently to his companion, determination beset in his almond eyes.

But L, he sighs. "I'm actually depressed. I can't believe I was wrong."

"...The way you say that, it's like you won't be satisfied unless I'm Kira."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I do want you to be Kira."

The insult stung, and fury overcame the adolescent. That words were met with Light's fist (he deserved it, he deserved it). The frustration that fired the punch knocked L clear to the floor, but the detective's shocked face turned vengeful as his foot collided under the boy's jaw. Before he could even think of peaceful diplomacy, the two opponents were wrestling like angry school children.

The squabble ensued, until they were both grabbing the shirt of the other, forcing the adversary to remain nearby even though neither had any intention of leaving. Fists in the air, ready to fly, eyes glaring – closer, closer than they had been...

It was weird, but in that moment, in the middle of the fight, bruised and bleeding a little and mad as hell, that was when Light consciously realized that this man was worthy of spending the next couple of months no more than five feet away from him, or whatever the chain would allow.

**(But he likes you...)**

Well, L knows that Light is Kira. Even if he isn't Kira now. The calculations tick through his head: the power of Kira can be passed and inherited. Perhaps by some supernatural force, perhaps it is voluntarily willed by the current Kira. Perhaps Light will be Kira again. L hopes so.

But then again, if Light became Kira again, L would have to incarcerate him. He would probably take him away, where the NPA who love him won't interfere with what he was doing, and he would make the adolescent talk. No matter what it took. And if Light became Kira again, when L was satisfied with enough information, he would submit the criminal to Interpol where the youth would be force-fed the cocktail of lethal injection.

No... he wouldn't settle with anything less, but...

Well, L likes Light Yagami here, by his side. (This is stupid, it doesn't matter...) He likes breathing the atmosphere that has been altered in oxygen by Light, he likes looking to the side and seeing the boy there, a focused expression on his face as he does profound, genius things that define him in brilliance. For the first time ever he is half tempted to find a drawing pad and pencils and sketch, to create Light on paper, to accent the jaw line that becomes so grim when Light is thinking, to shade in the intensity of his chocolate-colored eyes and draw the hair that falls down in wisps over his forehead.

(He has to keep reminding himself that art does not interest him.)

Light, however, does interest him.

Light's eyes glow as he speaks of destiny, how the unlikely pair is together until the end. If they die, they die together - the chain binds their fates. L isn't sure if Light actually believes this, but he is certainly willing to pretend if the adolescent is. It was a pleasant thought - let's be honest - but only in the narrow-minded idealistic fantasy that are dreams.

The reality that L sees is that one day he will take off the handcuffs when he frees himself of the Kira case. But Light Yagami will never be free - the authorities will give him a new pair, just for him. There will be further interrogation, there will be imprisonment and then he will die. Pitifully, a criminal who deserves to be erased forever from the world. The lethal chemicals forced into his bloodstream. The execution.

Light is looking at him curiously from the monitor that glows with Yotsuba business graphs. He frowns, brown eyebrows pinching together in concern, and in his tenor student's voice: "What are you thinking about?"

The detective gives him a sideways glance. "The case, Light-kun."

That merits a little smile from the youth, exasperated and sly both. "You're not getting depressed again, are you?"

"Perhaps a bit," L admits, again without elaborating on what is more than obvious to the perceptive brunette. "I didn't imagine that the investigation would become quite this complex."

"Don't say that," Light answers firmly, his eyes lit up with something divine in its passion. "There's nothing complex about it. It's simple to me - we are going to capture Kira, and then we are going to celebrate."

L feels his own hands tighten against the knees they are resting on. In the end, he knows, no one will be celebrating - no one. Dead men don't rejoice, neither do the ones who loved them. And L will leave emotions at the door, as always, and quickly move on to a new case.

"I hope you're not plotting new ways to prove I'm Kira," Light jokes with a charming grin. "I might punch you again."

L's hand raises, and the youth tenses – L can see it, he expects to be hit – but the detective's spidery fingertips gently touch Light's lips, asking him to be quiet so he can think. Light's eyes widen as he is silenced, and he wraps a hand around L's wrist, tightening around it as though he means to pull it away, but he doesn't. The fingers, they are lingering, basking in the softness of the skin, brushing gently and wishing...

What a waste of time.

Then again, perhaps - perhaps it was that simple. All of this tip-toeing around lies, deceit, being the hunter and being the hunted - it all added up to one very basic solution:

**He knows how to make that not matter.**

_The Death Note dropped in the school yard, it came for the schoolchildren. Arthur himself, the bedtime story goes, was also a boy when he pulled the sword of Avalon out of the stone and lead his kingdom to salvation. Only one side can have heroes, and this side is the one that is righteous, and _this_ side is the one that will be written in the history books. The victor..._

Intensity heightens when they uncover Yotsuba, and discover that the new Kira is somewhere within the company. True – Light and L are at odds, L is willing to make sacrifices and Light does not want to, he wants to win but maintain his nobility (something that L has apparently grown out of). True – this is hard and now Light is more than voluntary in working until he simply drops in exhaustion by his computer.

There is compromise – with a chain binding them together, there is compromise, and they are an unstoppable horsepower harnessed to the same divine chariot. After all, in the end, they both want the same thing, don't they? Even if they have different methods, they're definitely not enemies, right? After all, they're _friends_ for God's sake, Light has never had a friend like L. Even the things that don't make sense, he's sure no one has ever meant... quite this much to him... whatever the feelings are.

These thoughts are useless, the seconds are precious and there's no time to evaluate. There is a race to be won, and Kira is in sight. Working together, as two intellectual superpowers with enough determination to never lose faith even in the face of impossibility, they are able to defy logic.

**He will make that not matter.**

Pursuing Higuchi in a high-speed car chase, L knows that something is about to happen. He prepares, all of his senses working at maximum capability. Capture the man, restrain him so he cannot kill and use whatever interrogation techniques necessary to finally find the method of murder and unravel Kira's secret.

"It's... a notebook?"

Soichiro Yagami picks up the book, inspecting it, and then all of the sudden he yells. "_Shinigami!_"

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

L has the notebook brought to him, held out of the helicopter's window. He picks it up with careful fingers – it feels so normal that he shivers. And then he turns to the area where Higuchi is handcuffed in the street, surrounding by chaos and policemen-

A creature, terrible and ghastly towers above the crowd, haunted look on its otherworldly face.

At this moment, L knows that logic has been defied and he is frightened as he hears the shrill scream of Light Yagami, and now everything, everything that once made sense is wrong.

**He is-**

Anyway, it's not like there's anything to be done about it. On one hand, it isn't as though L would ever hesitate to sentence him to the death penalty and witness it himself.

On the other hand, Light knows that he has gone this far as Kira. He has been willing to sacrifice everything he loved and might love, even his own mind (leave it in psychotic shatters) and his soul (it won't go to Heaven or Hell, not anymore) for this from the start. Kira was god but a god was only an idea, and it couldn't be anything more at risk of compromising everything it stood for.

In short, Light could not allow himself any emotion other than his own passion, or his steps would stumble. And all the people that Kira was bringing to salvation, all the justice that was raining down onto the wicked - it would all be for nothing.

So he has arranged this plot, the plot that he now has conscious recollection of, where Rem the Shinigami will be pressured and cornered out of her own love for Misa (love, what a thing, it tears down walls and it kills people, it kills you). She will be forced to write down L's name in her Death Note, since she is so willing to die for her love. Then, forty seconds later, L will drop his silver spoon.

And his heart will stop pounding.

(The chain that connected them, collided them together like gravity from a meteor, now it is gone. Light wrote lies into the Death Note that tells L that he is not Kira, he has no reason to be under suspicion. So L, his face bears no expression as he unlocks it and Light finds freedom. The kind of freedom that he is sure he's desired all along, because god damn it, Ryuuzaki has lived far too long.)

**He is-**

Anyway, that's really how these cases always go. On one hand, Kira is fighting tooth and nail to kill him, as well as thousands of other people.

On the other hand, L is aware that the justice of the law needs to be blind and unbiased. No one is unloved - even the most treacherous of criminals have someone who will weep when they are gone. But loving someone doesn't make right the evil acts they have done, nor does it change the fact that they will continue to do these evil acts.

L could not afford this.

So he contacts Interpol, telling them to set up an experiment with condemned criminals to test the Death Note because these 'rules', aren't they made for breaking? And if it goes according to hypothesis (as if L has to wonder, he knows, why the hell does he have this faith, but he knows) then Light Yagami's days are limited until he is strapped to the execution chair and the lethal chemicals are pumped into his body.

And his heart will stop pounding.

(This was getting hard, it shouldn't be so hard – because to L, everything is supposed to be easy, and everything that isn't, doesn't matter. Shouldn't matter.)

_Ba-dum (ding, dong ding dong)_ like the sound of bells, they weep in their last moments and then they are silent-

"Ryuuzaki... what are you doing out here?"

_I don't know._

Isn't it the same, isn't it always the same. Corner the criminal, capture, interrogate, and dispose. This is Justice, he repeats to himself. He is Justice. He has to win, if he doesn't, he loses everything and the convictions he stands for shatter like the glass. (the glass in a mirror, that's seven years bad luck, seven years – he is seven years Light Yagami's senior. This sort of thing doesn't matter, but it haunts him more than the Shinigami does.)

But L is going to lose something either way. He can not comprehend why the Justice he loves more than anything has become meaningless whenever he stares into Light's sanguinary eyes – or no, that's not it at all. The_ truth _is, it's meaningless now whenever he's _not_ looking into them.

Which means that soon, one way or another, Justice will be gone. Who would have guessed that something so profound and all-encompassing would ultimately be as mortal as the titans were.

**When humans die, they become-**

_("When the storm has swept by, the wicked are gone, but the righteous stand firm forever." -Proverbs 10:25)_

**-Nothingness.**

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

(The rain, the storm, the Death Note... "Ryuuzaki, what are you doing out here?")

Everything I say is a lie. Sometimes I even make it up on the spot.

(The lies, the bells, the Interpol... "Yagami-kun is like me, too. We never tell the truth, do we?")

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

(Don't confuse me, my convictions are too clear. "It was your fault. You were out in the storm in the first place.")

(For everything we've done, it is amusing yet it makes me sad. "I'm sorry.")

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

(You're not sorry... because I'm not sorry.)

(Ironically, the whole issue is very professional between L and Kira. Nothing personal.)

(It was very personal. "Ryuuzaki...")

(When the end comes...)

Since Light does not know what else to think he decides he is hateful, he hates L for standing out in the rain, he hates the bastard for being wet because they are wet and that's terrible. He hates him because he is going to die and sometimes hatred is an easy excuse.

Since L does not know what else to think he gently investigates the thing that confuses him, but he forgets to think in the process. As he sits Light down and takes his feet, drying them, massaging them, he forgets to think, and sometimes forgetting to think is an easy way out.

How else do you explain that you intend to kill the other?

How else do you pretend that suddenly, things are very sacred and tender, the touch of skin against skin, the soft words upon soft words?

How else do you pretend that you're pretending?

(If reality is perceived then there is no reality, and the wings of angels are plucked, the brains of geniuses begin to rot.)

**Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-** ... (oh, oh no-)

Well, then. Good-bye, anyway. It's not like you wouldn't have done the same thing for me.

(I had to do it, I had to do it. For God's sake, the thing I'm fighting for is more important than just you and me! For God's sake! There's a bigger picture, for God's sake!)

_("O righteous God, who searches minds and hearts, bring to an end the violence of the wicked and make the righteous secure." -Psalm 7:9)_

"We did many interesting things, didn't we, Light?" the voice rumbles. "We killed some boredom, didn't we?"

It was labyrinthine, one might have said. Another might have said the whole thing was very simple. Neither say anything, not anymore, their bodies are buried.

But when that's all said, and when it's all done, only the righteous have what it takes to take justice

...and justify it.

_-Fin_

* * *

Author's Notes: 

-Apparently, when I get bored, I have a habit of ...killing Light and/or L. Blame Christmas vacation.

Thanks for reading! 


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